Five Kisses
by mercscilla
Summary: Five times the Commander and his Lieutenant share a kiss. Kiss of Passion, Kiss of Life, Kiss of Desire, Kiss of Promises and Kiss of Love.
1. Kiss of Passion

**Author's Note:** Written for **morganel**'s prompt **Moment** in the _Friday's One Word Fic Challenge - Week 4_. No spoilers.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I own neither the show nor the characters. I don't earn any money with this piece. I just do it for fun.

* * *

><p><strong>Kiss of Passion<strong>

It happens for the first time on her 21st birthday.

They have just returned from an eight months mission to one of Thailand's outer districts. Everyone is tired to the bone and looks forward to their two months leave, and to be honest, Alicia has completely forgotten about her so-called 'special' day. She has never been overly fond of the whole birthday jazz and keeping track of that day is at the very bottom of her priority list.

Taylor and the rest of her unit, however, haven't and before she knows it, they've dragged her to one of the bars on Nana Plaza for one last all-night-out-get-together and she is forced to admit that maybe birthdays aren't really so bad. For the first time in weeks, her teammates are truly happy, have fun and enjoy themselves to the fullest. The booze is good, the gifts they've got her are even better (or worse - depending on the perspective but Alicia certainly hasn't missed the darkening of the Commander's eyes as she unwrapped Michelson's 'Travel Pleasure Kit') and with every passing hour, the horrors of the last few months start to fade into a distant memory.

They are pleasantly buzzed (not yet drunk but not entirely sober anymore either) by the time Doc insists they follow an old tradition, namely kissing the birthday girl when the clock rings midnight, and while she is sure it's far from being a tradition, Alicia doesn't have the heart to tell them to go to hell. It doesn't mean though, she's going to make it easy for her team and so she orders them to stand in line, one next to the other (Taylor jokes, he has never seen his men follow a command this fast or eagerly), before she surrenders to her fate.

Most of the men are actually _gentle_men and give her a more or less chaste kiss on the cheek, one or two dare to go a little further and peck her quickly on the lips. Michelson, on the other hand, mischievous as he is, swoops right in, grins against her lips, wriggles his eyebrows and Alicia rolls her eyes, her own lips turning up at the corners.

Suddenly, he's gone and she stumbles into the chest of a clearly not amused looking Commander, taking her upper arms in a rather tight yet gentle grip as he steadies her. Startled she meets his gaze and her breath catches as something flashes in those pale eyes. In the years they've known each other he has never shown any sign of either being aware of her feelings for him nor reciprocating them. Or maybe she was too wrapped in hiding her own to notice because there is no doubt about the heat in his eyes now as he watches her.

Alicia gasps as her back hits one of the pillars and it is only then she realizes he's been maneuvering her into the darker part of the bar where they are barely visible among the shadows and low light. Her heart thunders and her cheeks burn under his unwavering gaze but that is nothing in comparison to the shock racing through her body, her breath catching in her throat, as he reaches up and gently brushes a strand of hair out of her face, his calloused fingertips caressing her skin with feather-like touches.

"Sir?"

"Shhh, Wash. Midnight is almost over. If we want to keep the tradition, we're going to have to hurry."

And then he's kissing her, crushes his lips to hers, hungry, needy, swallows her surprised moan and every after that with his mouth. Taylor slides his hands into her hair, nips at her bottom lip and groans low as she parts her lips and curls her tongue around his. Her body arches into his, desire flaring hot inside her as he presses his hips to hers in response.

Laughter across the room tears through the haze of passion surrounding them and for a breathless moment they simply stare at each other. Another cheer sounds and reality returns, like a bucket of ice water, and if it wasn't for his hold on her, she would have bolted.

"Don't."

"Sir, I-"

"It was nothing more than a birthday kiss." His fingers dig into her skin as he pulls her close and touches his forehead to hers, their shuddering breaths mingling in the air between them, eyes dark with emotions they shouldn't feel. "Just a kiss. Nothing more."

They both know it's a lie.

It was far more than that.

ooo

The next morning they hardly talk to each other but none of their team takes notice of it, partly because of the rebreathers making it difficult to have conversations anyway and partly because the men are too busy trying to get over their horrible hangovers. Just before the doors of her train closes, Alicia glances back at her unit one last time and finds Taylor watching her with an unfathomable look in his eyes. It leaves her wondering if things are ever going to be normal again - whatever normal was for her anyway.

Then, two and a half weeks into her leave, he sends her a message, inquiries about her well-being, if the domes are as nice as the commercials promise, how she likes to finally eat real food again - trivial matters. She sees them for what they are, an olive branch, and with great care Alicia formulates a response. Taylor replies the same day again and from there on they correspond with each other at least once a day. When their leave is over, there are no outward signs of anything other than a deep friendship between them.

And if his hand lingers on her back a moment longer than necessary and if she stitches him up with far more gentle hands than the others, no one mentions it.


	2. Kiss of Life

**Author's Note:** Written for **bellebby**'s prompt **Breath** in the _Friday's One Word Fic Challenge - Week 5_. No spoilers but ANGST, my dear friends, heavy BAMF angst...  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I own neither the show nor the characters. I don't earn any money with this piece. I just do it for fun.

* * *

><p><strong>Kiss of Life<strong>

The second time they kiss, it takes place over four years later, August 2138, in the dense jungle of Somalia.

It's also almost her last one.

Alicia doesn't remember much of it but Taylor does. The second he hears the transmission, Wash's call for back-up, heavy gunfire and explosions in the background, then nothing, only static, he doesn't think twice. He arrives, the rest of their unit in tow, at her last known location in record time.

What he finds, is worse than anything he could ever imagine, and it takes a lot to make a hardened soldier like Taylor feel fear, be overwhelmed by an all-consuming terror.

There is blood, so much of it, too much to be of a single, _harmless _injury and he follows the trail of red, each step adding another layer of dread to his soul, until he finds her, lying motionless on the wet, muddy ground, in her right hand a gun, the left pressed to her stomach in a futile attempt to stop the steady flow of dark liquid.

For one moment, an eternity, Taylor believes, she is dead, and he drops down on his knees at her side, any strength he possessed gone with her, slowly reaches out, hesitates just before his fingers make contact with her skin, and then she turns her head a fraction, her amber eyes, glassy with pain, finding his pale ones, and the feeling of relief is like a sledgehammer to his gut.

The soldier in him yells for Doc, barks orders at his men, but the man is solely focused on the woman before him, almost overwhelmed by the need to soothe her pain but unable to do so because he has no idea how to help her without hurting her further. It rips him apart, brings forth feelings he buried in the darkest corner of his soul.

"Sir..."

"Hey, Wash." His smile is forced as he gently rubs over the smudges of dirt and grime on her cheeks, and the coldness of her skin squeezes the chain around his heart even tighter, a burning sensation pricking at the corners of his eyes.

"Ayan...Luc...got them...have to..." It's clearly painful for her to form the words (stubborn, strong woman, his Lieutenant) and he is just about to tell her to save her strength when Wash lets go of her weapon, closes her fingers around his wrist and, with surprising force, pulls him down to her, her eyes flashing and her voice steady. "No. Save _them_. Go."

It is too much for her already weakened body and a horrible wet cough wrecks her as she sags back to the ground. Another shudder runs through her body and suddenly she stills, her eyes drifting shut, her head lolling to the side.

"_Doc_!" Taylor swears under his breath and presses his hand to her wounds, ignoring the iciness spreading through his body as he feels no heartbeat. "Don't you dare, Wash. Don't you _dare_."

"Taylor, we need to get her heart starting again. The medicopter takes at least another ten minutes."

It's going to be CPR, Taylor knows it before Doc says the word and although he has seen Wash perform it on their fellow men many times (never on him though - she always says death is too scared of him to take him on), has even helped her once or twice, his hands, stained with her blood, still tremble as he carefully moves her head into the right position, following Doc's instructions.

When he starts breathing for her, his mind flashes back to their first meeting, when Wash saved his life with sixty-seven stitches, and with every push of air into her lungs that comes after that, another memory follows until he has no more left. Dimly, he hears Doc telling him it's too late but he's not listening, shakes off the hands trying to pull him away. Instead, he leans down, his lips brushing hers, passing his heat to her as he speaks, and his words are barely more than a whisper.

"I swear, if you die, Wash, I'm going to come after you and drag you back." For a moment it is as if the world stops but then he feels her mouth moving beneath his and his fingers, tangled in her hair, tighten their hold.

"Can't let that...happen, can we, sir? Hell...wouldn't survive you," she croaks hoarsely and yet it is the sweetest sound he has ever heard. He gives a chocked laugh before his gaze turns serious, his eyes dark as they hold hers captive.

"Who says, it's hell I'm getting you back from?"

ooo

Despite her protests, despite her pleading with him to go after his wife and boy, assuring him that she's fine now and going to survive, Taylor stays with her until the medicopter arrives, fingers tightly entwined with hers, his other hand lightly resting on her bandaged wound. When he has to let go of her, he does so reluctantly and the feeling is mutual if the squeeze she gives his hand is any indication.

Three weeks later Taylor visits her at the hospital in New Texas, and Wash greets him with such a look of utter despair and guilt that he literally growls at her to stop that right now. Neither of them is at fault for what happened to the civilians, to Ayani. Even if he had chosen to leave Wash behind at the compound and go after the enemy, the outcome would have been the same. There's still a glimmer of doubt in her dark eyes but he's willingly to give her time.

Too soon he has to leave her but just before he steps out of her room, he stops and tells her, almost too quiet for her to hear, that he wouldn't be able to go on if _she_ had died. He's gone before she has a chance to answer.

When she starts her physical therapy, he's there, watches from the shadows, eyes shining with pride, as she slowly but stubbornly fights her way back, fights until she has recovered and is finally declared fit for duty again.


	3. Kiss of Desire

****Author's Note:** **Written for **bellakitse**'s prompt _Always_ in the _Friday's One Word Fic Challenge - Week 6_. Spoilers for the Season One finale but do not worry, there will be a happy ending. :)**  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> **I own neither the show nor the characters. I don't earn any money with this piece. I just do it for fun.

* * *

><p><strong>Kiss of Desire<strong>

Approximately another four years (and 118 days) pass before their third kiss takes place, 85 millions years in the past.

Almost four months of living in limbo have put her on the edge, weeks of stalking the hallways of Hope Plaza with a grim smile on her face, one hand on her gun, the fingers of the other drumming a fast beat on her (his) knife, unable to do anything but to _wait_. For someone like her it's one of the worst kind of torture, to be condemned to watch from the sideline.

But then comes the moment they finally open the connection again, and when Alicia steps through the portal, she's back in control, all the pent up frustration turning into determination, set on finding him in this new (old) world. And finding him, she will. There has never been a doubt in her mind that he's still alive. Taylor is a survivor, always has been, and while she can only begin to imagine what he's been through, what it was like to be stranded all alone in a foreign world for over a hundred days, fighting to survive day by day, she just knows he's out there.

She puts Guzman in charge of guarding the portal and disappears into the underwood, sparing the blooming wildlife around her only a single glance. Jungle is jungle after all, no matter in what era, and even though this one is far more colorful, filled with much more life than those in the future, she's only interested in one life.

The tingling at the back of her neck is the first sign, soon followed by the unmistakable feeling of being watched and she follows her instincts (they have never misled her when it comes to him), lets her pack drop to the ground before slowly turning around.

The sight of him, bruised and blooded but _alive_, combined with weeks apart that have stripped her of her usual walls and barriers, tugs at her very soul and the soldier in her crumbles to dust, leaving nothing behind but the woman, her expression soft, open.

Taylor takes a step towards her, stops, clenches his fists at his sides. "You're really here, aren't you, Wash?" His voice is hoarse, raw with emotions, and it pains her to hear him sounding so lost. Feelings well up, trap her answer inside her throat, and all she manages is a nod, but that is already enough and a weight seems to be lifted off his shoulders, the tension leaving his body in a rush as he lets out a ragged sigh.

This time, there is no hesitation as he moves forward, crossing the distance between them fast, with just a few strides, until he's right up against her, his breath hot on her face. They've been this close before - though then it had always been dictated by outer circumstances (in trenches, during briefings, whenever she had to stitch him up) - but this time it feels different.

Alicia can smell him, earthy, spicy and something else, something that is just him, and a flush colors her cheeks as she remembers another place, another time. He's staring down at her, the look in his pale eyes intense, and her breath hitches as one hand curves around her shoulder, the other sliding to her nape, calloused fingers gripping her gently as Taylor tilts her face up to his.

Her eyes flutter and she shivers from the sensation of his warm skin on hers, a soft moan escaping her lips. With a low growl his mouth descend on hers, kissing her with a need that steals her breath and sets her nerves on fire, his tongue slipping past her parted lips as she gasps and arches against him. His answering groan is lost between them as he pushes himself closer, deepens the kiss, teeth scraping over bruised lips.

She tastes desperation and longing in his touch, knows it arises from the knowledge that this won't last, _can't _last, that they're going to sacrifice their happiness because there is just too much at stake, and she twists her fingers into the edges of his shirt, hoping in vain this moment will last forever.

It still breaks her heart as Taylor pulls away, brushes his lips up to her temple, pressing them to her skin there. The tender gesture wrecks havoc on her emotions and Alicia bites her bottom lip, the lump in her throat growing thicker.

Some things (_they_) are just not meant to be, no matter how much she wishes it were otherwise.

ooo

Later, among their fellow men, they are back in their roles, Commander and Lieutenant, the chain of command, titles and ranks, separating them again but then Alicia glances at him and finds it's still there, desire, shimmering just beneath the surface, twirling in his eyes as he watches her while he's talking with Guzman and the 'not meant to be' rearranges itself to a 'maybe one day', letting a spark of hope flicker to life in her chest.

The following days, as they start to build a temporary camp, explore the terrain Taylor thinks is suitable for their colony and prepare for the second pilgrimage, they rarely leave each other's side, and she savors every moment of it, his arm brushing hers as he reaches past her for a plexpad, a hand on her hip to steady him while he's reading the files she's holding, strong but gentle fingers wrapping around her wrist to get her attention.

When the portal opens, signaling the arrival of Lucas and other scientists, they await them standing next to each other, and just before he steps forward to welcome his son, their fingers entwine for a single heartbeat.

Over the years they let looks and touches convey what they can't (are not allowed to) say out loud. _Be careful and come back to me_ every time one of them goes OTG, _need you by my side_ the night Lucas betrays him, _always together_ against the Sixers and the unknown enemy in the future, _don't leave me_ when the virus steals his memories and feelings, _I'll miss you_ the morning he leaves the colony to defend Terra Nova against his son and the Phoenix Group.

And it is enough, they have the promise of _someday_, but then it all shatters into a thousand tiny pieces as Lucas pulls the trigger.


	4. Kiss of Promises

****Author's Note:** **Written for **bellebby**'s prompt _Golden_ in the _Friday's One Word Fic Challenge - Week 7_. Spoilers for the Season One finale but I fixed it. 3**  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> **I own neither the show nor the characters. I don't earn any money with this piece. I just do it for fun.

* * *

><p><strong>Kiss of Promises<strong>

They never expect their fourth kiss to happen but some things (love) are stronger than death.

2149 is a year of many things, truths are revealed and decisions are made, but most importantly, their love blooms like a beautiful flower, fragile and yet strong, and _one day _is suddenly so much closer than in all the years before, despite the grim situation they find themselves in.

Until he watches her fall, watches his fierce Lieutenant crumble to the ground, and the future he has built in his mind, carefully guarded and treasured, dissolves like smoke in the wind, leaving nothing behind but broken memories of fleeting looks and stolen touches. Days bleed into weeks, a month, then two, life goes on for everyone but him, he's adrift in the dark even though the sun rises every day. Taylor throws himself into work, barely sleeps and eats, deliberately directs his energies into rebuilding Terra Nova and preparing for whatever their enemy is planning, trying to cope with grief and loss in his own way.

Today, however, feels different, something is in the air, has been there since the morning when he woke up to the ghost of warm lips pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead and phantom fingers running through his hair. Throughout the day Taylor senses her comforting presence, tangible, almost solid, intensifying with every passing hour. It's both maddening and soothing.

Then, late in the afternoon, Shannon calls him on the comm, informs him about two transports approaching the main gate, Sixers, not the Phoenix Group, no sign of hostile activity but with white flags painted on the sides, and the _something_ shifts, falls into place like a missing piece of the puzzle.

From the balcony he watches, body tense and mind racing, as Mira and her people leave the vehicles, surrender without being ordered to. When Carter points at the open transport's door before reaching in to slowly help someone out, Taylor suddenly _knows_ and in a split second he's down the stairs of the Command Center.

His Lieutenant has never looked more beautiful to him than she does now, tired and bruised, but alive, breathing, here with him.

Neither of them notices the others backing away until it's just him and her, hidden between the transports, the fading daylight bathing them in shades of gold and finally, after weeks of being trapped in shadows, he steps out of the darkness, led by the emotions glowing in Wash's amber eyes. In this moment, he vows to never let her go.

He takes her mouth in a savage kiss, wraps one arm around her waist to pull her close as he threads his fingers through her unbound hair. The taste of her on his lips, her scent around him and her warm skin under his fingertips - he's drowning in sensations, in her, and he still can't get enough, can't stop touching her. His hand drifts to the small of her back, slips beneath her tank top, fingers splaying low on her warm skin, and she trembles at the contact, hands clutching at his arms, nails digging into his skin.

Heat rises inside him, makes his blood burn as everything narrows down to the woman he's holding in his arms, and Taylor presses his lips harder against hers, groaning low as her mouth opens under the pressure, her tongue sliding along his. He guides her backwards and pins her to the side of the transport with the full length of his body, her soft curves fitting against his hard planes perfectly. Wash arches into him, moaning quietly, and her arms slide around his neck as she melts into his embrace.

His mouth leaves hers to travel down to the place where her shoulder meets her neck, lips and beard trailing over sensitive skin, and a shiver runs through her as his teeth graze a certain spot, a soft sigh echoing in the air, her fingers curling into his shirt. Taylor drags his lips up her throat, stops for a moment as he feels her pulse beating just beneath the surface, before raising his head to cover her mouth with his once more, lips moving over hers in a kiss laced with longing and need, deepening it for a long few seconds before drawing back.

He rests his forehead against hers, brushes the backs of his fingers over her flushed cheek, and when his eyes meet hers, the love shining in them robs him of breath and words. But then again, they never really needed words. Taylor simply touches his mouth to her, reaches for her hand and entwines their fingers.

_I love you, too._

ooo

It is Doc Shannon, who quietly reminds them that the Lieutenant has to go to the hospital and Taylor stays with Wash as long as he can, not willing to part with her so soon again. He waits beside the examination table as she's scanned, a hand on her shoulder, his thumb slowly rubbing back and forth across her skin, calming his ever-present need to touch her, to be sure she's _real_ and not a figment of his imagination. Wash seems to crave the constant contact as much as he does, relaxes further into his caress, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. When he can no longer put off the meeting with Mira and Carter, Taylor slides his hand down her bare arm and gently squeezes her fingers before leaning in to kiss her forehead. It's not a goodbye, it's a _soon_.

She is kept for observation for the next few days as per doctor's orders and while they both now it is necessary, it's still driving them out of their minds. That one moment of pure bliss was not enough and now they want more, their bodies humming with suppressed passion, flaring hot whenever he visits her. They begin teasing each other, a heated glance here (him) and her eyes flash golden in response, a feather-light touch there (her) and his body tightens in anticipation.

On the evening of the fifth day, Wash is finally allowed to leave and Taylor waits for her outside of the hospital, his gaze dark and intense. He steps forward and offers her his hand, not as the Commander to his Lieutenant but as a man in love to the woman who holds his heart. When she places her hand in his, fingers gripping his tightly, her eyes alight with desire, Taylor knows _one day_ is here at last.


	5. Kiss of Love

****Author's Note #1:** **Written for **bellebby**'s prompt Story in the _Friday's One Word Fic Challenge - Week 8_. No spoilers since this is all happening in the future. :)**  
><strong>Author's Note #2:<strong> **This is the last chapter and I'm a little sad to see the story ending because it had been really fun to write them. I'd like to thank all those wonderful readers and reviewers on LiveJournal, and Tumblr - you all have been such a great support. :D Thank you so much! *squishes***  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> **I own neither the show nor the characters. I don't earn any money with this piece. I just do it for fun.

* * *

><p><strong>Kiss of Love<strong>

The fifth kiss they share is strictly speaking not their fifth but it outshines all the others.

Their life may not be a fairytale but they do have their own Happily Ever After, enjoying every single moment - from a hug when one of them goes OTG or returns to the mornings spend together at his housing unit. Bittersweet smiles have turned into teasing grins (Nathaniel watches her training the recruits, arms crossed over his chest, a smirk on his lips as he _helpfully_ points out what she could do better until she cracks and challenges him), a touch is no longer brief but lingers on purpose (Alicia reaches for the plexpad on the table, lets her hand rest on his shoulder, her fingertips grazing his skin, and he literally growls at Shannon and Guz to clear the room), and eyes flash with desire, not pain (the rovers haven't even stopped yet when he jumps out, stalks to the other vehicle, hauls her out and slants his hungry lips overs her, not caring about the dirt and blood – or their audience). They have everything they want, each other, and for the first time in years, they are truly content, she is, sharing a life with him, _loving_ him - that's all she ever wanted.

Then one night, Nathaniel brushes his mouth over her body in almost reverent fashion, paints a possible future in vivid detail with lips and fingers on her sensitive skin until she's writhing beneath him, hands clutching at the sheets, whimpering, gasping as he brings her close to the edge again and again. With startling clarity Alicia realizes, she wants that, wants this future, their future, more than anything, and when she clutches at his shoulders, her eyes shimmering with tears, he grips her hips and whispers hoarsely into her ear the same moment he slides inside her body, her back arching from the force of his thrust. All she manages is a chocked "Yes", losing herself in the pleasure, in him, and as he pulls back to look at her, his pale eyes bright with emotions, she cups his cheek, and captures his lips in a fervent kiss.

Alicia sees the same emotions the day of their wedding, doesn't notice anything else, not the pretty flowers or the beautiful decorations around the plaza, there is only Nathaniel, waiting for her at the gate in his dress uniform. Taking her hand in his, he lets his heated gaze rake over her, and her skin flares hot under his slow deliberate perusal of her, his small smirk telling her he's well aware of what he's doing to her. For a moment, she lets him have his victory, then she curls her mouth into her version of his smirk and shifts slightly to the side, reveling in the darkening of his eyes to a deep shade of blue as they come to rest on the shadow of _his_ knife strapped to her thigh under her ivory dress.

"I take, this is your 'something borrowed', Lieutenant?" He murmurs quietly, his thumb lightly rubbing over her wrist, and she makes a non-committal sound, eyes twinkling mischievously. His grip on her hand tightens, eyes stormy with the promise of _later_and heat rises between them, a steady burn just beneath their skin. And yet there is more to it, something else coming to life, it's not just about the passion that's always between them, it's about their connection and throughout the day and evening, they're never far from each other's side.

The first stars appear in the cloudless night sky as Alicia walks up the stairs of the Command Center and leans against the railing of the balcony to watch the few couples left dancing to the music, one corner of her mouth crooked up. Her focus shifts as he steps up behind her, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her into his chest. With a sigh, she relaxes in his embrace and places her hands on his forearms, her head tilting to the side as Nathaniel lowers his to her shoulder, his warm lips a sharp contrast to the bristles of his beard. Unexpected desire washes over her and she pushes back against him involuntarily, moaning softly as she feels his arousal. He reacts instantly, spins her in the circle of his arms and buries his fingers in her hair before his mouth claims hers.

He's demanding, taking but she's giving herself willingly to him. He licks at her lower lip and she parts for him, his tongue sweeping inside, the tip of it grazing hers. Sliding her hands up his chest, Alicia links them behind his head and molds herself to him, smiling into their kiss as Nathaniel jerks against her, his groan rumbling through her. The kiss gentles, becomes more sensual and languid, and she feels the tension easing out of his body. She knows exactly what he's feeling, it's the same for her, this need to show him how much he means to her, how much she loves him.

One last brush of her mouth across his and Alicia draws back, the tips of her fingers lingering on his skin as she caresses his face, tracing over his cheekbone, down along his jaw. Nathaniel's eyes are dark, intense, but a smile flits over his lips, and when she turns back around, he settles his hands on her waist, his thumbs smoothing over her hips. She gives a content hum and they slowly start to sway to some old 20th century Earth song, losing themselves in the magic of the night.

They don't need words.

Their love speaks for itself.

ooo

Over the years, many layers are added to their love, some laced with joy, other more painful, but every single one serves to strengthen the bond between them.

The last time they see Lucas, Alicia stands beside Nathaniel and watches the young man spitting his hate like venom at his father's feet. It breaks her heart as the first cracks appear in those silvery-blue eyes, fingers flexing against his gun holster, but he stays silent while his son's rant becomes more and more incoherent. Lucas throws them one last bitter look before he turns his back on them and walks away, disappearing forever. They never hear from him again and one day in autumn, they lay his memory finally to rest.

One morning she feels terrible, can't stand the sight of her favorite food, actually craves his disgusting but _healthy_ fruit shakes, and even though she loathes to admit it, she obviously needs Elisabeth's help. When Nathaniel returns from OTG later that day, he finds Alicia sitting in their kitchen, half a dozen glasses filled with various fruit and vegetable shakes surrounding her. She mock-salutes him with a rather colorful drink and bluntly tells him, his daughter has inherit _his _horrible taste, and he better makes it up to her. He follows her order promptly and most of the juice ends up spilled on the table's surface, soaking into her shirt.

It's a truly dark night, no matter how often Shannon assures her Nathaniel is going to be fine. She may only be a field medic but she knows what kind of damage a head injury, and especially one that's been inflicted by a Slasher, can cause. When Alicia is finally allowed to see him, she's prepared for the worst, hesitates at the door, but then he calls out to her, his voice low yet strong, and the ice around her heart shatters. He may have lost his left eye but not his life and that's all that counts. And the eye patch Boylan provides him with has a certain appeal after all.

On the day, Nathaniel discovers his little girl isn't so little anymore and has not only her mother's blazing amber eyes but also her temper, he also learns that there are some things he can't change, no matter how much he wants to. It's the one and only time he agrees with Carter. Alicia tells her daughter to ignore her father and follow her heart. If Skye's son is the right one for her, she should not let him slip through her fingers. As she looks up, Nathaniel is there, standing in the doorway, an affectionate smile on his lips. Like mother, like daughter, he teases and Alicia rolls her eyes, holding her hand out to him. He gently links their fingers and pulls her into his arms. He wouldn't want it any other way.

It will come the day the last layer will be added but that time is still far away. Until then they will laugh, kiss, fight, cry, smile, mourn and be happy – but most importantly they will _love_.


End file.
